A Step out of the Shadows
by lazsam
Summary: Talon began his life quietly and peacefully with a loving family... for all of about four years. Tragedy soon follows him where ever he goes and he sees no sign of hope until a chance encounter leads to a even more rare opportunity and perhaps Talon can change his cynical views of life for the better and be willing to leave the shadows he treads. (Up to date lore. No JoJ)
1. Prologue: Spiraling

**AN/: Hi, everyone. I appreciate the support on the previous version of this prologue. I have to say that I was not proud of the first piece I released. First off I felt it was very short to be its own chapter. Secondly, I feel that due to the lore changes with league that a lot more background is needed on how everything is the way it is now. **

**I intend to continue this story, but I will not announce any schedule or order of doing things. I hope you will be patient with me as I learn and grow. Hopefully my story will reflect it. **

**I really appreciate reviews. Especially criticism, although it is nice to know I am awesome sometimes. Please review if something like a mistake grammatically or just plot wise is driving you nuts. I probably glossed right over it. **

**Enjoy!**

Fifteen years ago the sky above Noxus was no cheerier and it was filled with no less intrigued than ever. The shadows of the city seemed darker this particular winter night. The slums of Noxus stank of fear, weakness, and cruelty not to mention rotting corpses and feces. The city lived by one principle, do it yourself or die. The concept was simple enough but, it didn't account for laziness, cruelty, and just the evil that man is capable of committing. The entire empire of Noxus lived very closely to a feudal style. Groups of people lived together in villages and towns overlooked by a castle or fortress that served as protection from bandits and sometimes other villages. The only rule about infighting was: Don't do it when we are at war. It made for a hellish culture, and an excellent pre trained army sworn to Noxus. Many years ago during the time of the rune wars Noxus was a single city surrounded by villages, but other than that a single city to a single country, much like the rest of Runeterra. With the peace brought by the truces made after the powerful magic used by all sides during the conflict every nation was granted respite. Noxus, with its questionable policies, was unstable during peacetime. People began migrating away, spreading out from the main city in an effort to avoid bandits and renegades. Of course as people left, so did bandits, and the bandits prospered like no other. The lack of care from the main government gave rise to the feudal system the country now experienced and individual castles would sometimes raise their own flag claiming independence. The castles were generally to the west. Close enough to the Demacian border to taste freedom, but support. The Noxian high command swiftly cracks down on these uprisings and punished the offenders spectacularly and extremely publicly. The brutality of Noxian High Command allowed rule of the country despite dissenters.

In the outskirts of the capital of Noxus, unsurprisingly called Noxus, was a small child who lived in a small ramshackle village. Deep into the night the young child whimpered in fear. The door to his loved ramshackle home was forced open and two men stood silhouetted against the harsh winter sky. Behind them a small hovel was made out and even further in the distance the skull of Noxian high command could be made out. The eyes of the skull were filled with stained red glass and even from his vantage point the child could make out the ominous glow. An eerie smile bestowed the rest of its features. The smile of the skull was made out of dark marble that contrasted with the white of the rest of the building. All in all, the features were there for fear and control. The men in front of him were no different from the building in that respect. The two men before him wore long over coats with fur trimming around the hood and sleeves, hardly concealing their armaments. They were tall and well-muscled. The men were soldiers that worked directly for high command and they were here to enforce taxes that were due. On the edge of their sleeves blood stains could be seen and one of the men had a large splash of blood across his chest. On their belts, opposite of their weapons, large pouches that jingled with every step swayed gently. They both wore frightening expressions of malice and ill-will. The child confronting them was very young, hardly more than a toddler, but his muscles were as developed as they could be despite his clear lack of food and other necessities. The leading man began gruffly, "Where are your damn parents, boy."

The child's eyes flicked to where the door, if you could call slabs of wood held by rusted nails a door, was hanging from its torn hinges. Through cracks in the planks an assortment of weapons could be made out hanging from a rack and blocked by the ajar door. The blades glinted through the cracks providing a slight comfort to the small child. The boy turned to look back in his house, but saw no sign of anyone who could help him. Finally, and hesitantly, he responded, "Ma-mama is in the bedroom and my papa is at the market."

"Go get your mother kid." The men stomped noisily into the living room bringing in mud and dirt from their boots. Both men crossed their arms and stared around at the decor of the house. The floor was made of very old wood, thick with rot, and slightly damp to the touch. The furniture with in the room was worn and ancient appearing to have been passed down from generation to generation. The men seemed disinterested as the scene was typical within the slums of Noxus.

The boy ran farther into the house. Much of the house was like the living room except for the weaponry. There were daggers and swords hanging on the walls cleaned and polished. Several pictures of a young man with dark brown hair wearing Noxian dress uniform. He looked rough, but composed. A steely look was on his face and it seemed that he stared down the camera as if it were an enemy. The boys footsteps finally fell away and quick, but muted conversation, followed by tears from the child, could be heard echoing through the shack. Slow hesitant footsteps soon echoed down the hallway.

Finally, a young women with long dark hair and striking dark brown eyes entered the room. The child just behind her legs, to her obvious irritation, peeking from behind her, tears still running down his cheeks. The mother was clearly trying to put on a brave face for her child. Her lips pressed tightly together and her eyes were locked on the lead man. One hand protectively on her hip the other made into a fist by her side. She seemed to size up the men and resign herself to some unseen fate.

"What do you need?" She said venomously. Her eyes drifting between the two men as if unsure who would pose the biggest threat. Both men's eyes seemed to gleam at her words like a predator at cornered prey. The rear man gripped his sword and drew it out of the sheath slightly as if preparing for a kill.

The lead man smiled cruelly and answered cheerfully, "No need to be so vile, mam, we are just here to collect your late taxes." His eyes seemed to slowly go over the contents of the room as if he were estimating a value of each item and then he returned his gaze to the woman.

The women's eyes momentarily betrayed her fear before she visibly steeled herself and a scowl formed on her lips. "We don't have the money... yet. Please let me and my husband have more time." The men's smiles seemed to grow even more malicious at this and they stepped farther into the house and closer to the woman.

"You know what I think, mam? I think you have all we need for payment." He grinned at the boy behind the woman and eyed several items within the living room. The boy whimpered slightly and backed into the shadows of the hallway, surprisingly hard to see. The woman tensed visually and clenched her fists.

"No! Don't take him! He… he is so young... I... Please... Don't do this!" She begged despite her anger, falling to her knees. The men looked at her with contempt and stepped even closer to the woman. A creak from the door was the only noise that followed the woman's cry.

At that moment the boy's father returned. The woman stood up in surprise wiping the tears from her face. The man had cloudy grey eyes and his face was marred from numerous years of service during the Rune wars. He seemed to analyze the scene before him. His eyes resting on the two men in his living room. His eyes sparked dangerously in the gloom. "Get. Out. Of. My. House." He spit the words out of his mouth with contempt and a tinge of hatred. His right hand gripped a dagger sheathed on his belt while the left was pointing out the open door.

The men seemed unaffected by the man's presence and the lead man stepped closer to the woman completely ignoring the father. Suddenly the rear man spun on his heel drawing a long, cruel blade from his belt and slashed it across the man's right arm spraying blood against the wall. The father staggered and released his grip on his dagger. The sword clashed against the door in a clumsy follow up. The father crouched with his injured arm low and his good arm out offensively. The blade was slashed towards him again and again. Score upon score of blows grazed the father's body. The father was breathing heavily and suddenly the man lunged forward. The father was too slow and was unable to dodge the stab. The blade slashed through his throat and a horrific sucking sound began with each rise of his chest. The father's eyes were widened in pain and surprised. His killer looked on impassively as his victim died.

The child's screams were matched by his horrified mother. The boy tried to rush past his mom to his dad, but the woman held him back with one arm. The child collapsed on to his knees and sobbed while his mother struggled to remain standing. Tears streamed down her face and an expression of true twisted fear was plastered to her face.

The man gargled and choked, spitting blood and collapsing to his knees. Slowly he fell to the floor, the sick sucking sound growing weaker as the hole in his throat clogged with blood and the life left his eyes. The silence thundered on for several moments.

Blood had sprayed from his throat; past the two men and landing on the floor covering everything in between with a fine mist of blood. So much blood. The child's grey brown eyes traced the blood spray religiously glancing at his now dead father and his petrified mother.

"I think that covers a portion of your debt, mam." The man's voice was cold and full of malevolence. He stepped forward so that he was mere inches from the woman. He towered over her and wore his, now common, evil smirk.

The woman cowered into the hallway stunned into permanent silence, a terrified expression on her face. Her back pedaling finally halted when she bumped into her son. Unseen to her, a dagger was held tightly in his tiny hands. In fact no one seemed to notice him at all. He blended nearly expertly into the background.

"Where are you going, beautiful? I don't think you have paid off all of your debt. How do you think you are going to do that, mam?" The man continued his approach amused with his torment of the woman. His lackey had backed off and now stood at the door exiting the house peering into the streets.

"I... I don't know... Please we have paid enough... I don't have any means to pay you! Please!" The woman cried, sobbing. Her chest heaved and shuttered with grief. Her arms were wrapped around her body, her once stoic posture completely crushed in the aftermath of her husband's death.

Another evil smile crossed the man's disgusting face. The man in in the doorway turned from his watch as if queued by an unseen maestro and joined his partner with a similar smile on his face, "You know what?" His eyes drifted to her chest and old loose shirt. "I think I know how you can pay us. His partner loosened his belt and slowly unlatched the buckle.

The woman's eyes widened in renewed terror. She tried to push her son farther in the house, but the first man said, "I think he should be here to learn this lesson with you."

The woman's eyes hardened in hatred. She somehow managed to regain composure despite the tears staining her cheeks. She seemed to have renewed her vigor and prepared herself for death rather than the fate they had in mind.

"Take off your clothes, dear. We wouldn't want to rip them." When the woman made no move to comply the man stepped closer still and eyed her son, focusing on his eyes and face. "We wouldn't want another accident with your son, like this man here, now would we mam?" The woman was defeated as soon as the threat left the man's mouth.

Tears covered the woman's eyes and she began to slowly remove her ragged clothing. Suddenly her eyes rolled into the back of her head. The two men stared in confusion until they noticed the young boy with tears streaming down his face a long bloody dagger in hand. The man stepped forward and kicked the woman aside.

The lead man growled in frustration and then spat, "You ruined us a lot of fun there, kid."

The boy stared at him with unbelievable amounts of hate in his eyes for one so young. The man punched the child collapsing him against the wall behind him. The boy sprawled on the floor dazed. A heavy foot was slammed on his chest and excruciating pain pierced his body with each breath he took.

"How about I help commemorate this occasion for you, punk." The lead man drew his saber and touched the tip against his small bicep. Slowly he applied force; pushing the blade into the boys arm, scraping the bone. The boy seemed out of screams and tears, only grimacing in pain. The man twisted his blade savagely eliciting a grunt from the kid below him.

"Now fuck off, you piece of shit." The man reinforced his words by kicking the child, his heel connecting with his stomach and his steel toes pushing into his chest he was propelled deep into the hallway.

The man turned and spat on the father's corpse that already buzzed with a swarm of flies, feasting. He then stepped gingerly over the body and disappeared into the night, his partner on his heels. The sudden silence echoed in the night, nothing moved as if sensing the terrible atrocities committed.

The boy shuddered. The feeling in his arm completely numb besides the massive pain of his wound that was dwarfed by the mental trauma he had sustained. He couldn't let them do that to his mother. In maturity seemingly unmatched he had recognized their demise and spared his mother despite the great cost to himself.

The boy crawled on his knees to his mother's body. His small fingers of his healthy arm clutched her limp figure and he curled up against her cooling body. Tears once again breached his eyes and streamed back down his face. He quickly blacked out with exhaustion his mind and body ravaged.

He woke to a Towns Watch nudging him awake. "Hey, kid! Wake up! You need help. Your arm is really fucked up." The boy seemingly stared past the man. He felt light headed from blood loss. Slowly he realized that the bodies of his mother and father had been taken away. He looked about anxiously, but the world seemed oddly foggy. Appearing far away a soldier knelt beside him offering him a hand. The man was lightly armored, but equipped with numerous weapons. A typical guard. He reached his hand feebly to meet the guard, but was unable to grab the helping hand. The guard reached down and picked him up. "Alright, boy, I am going to take you to get help free of charge and then you're on your own." The boy didn't have the energy to wonder why someone in Noxus was being merciful and at this point he didn't care. He let the man lift him in his arms.

The boy had already fallen unconscious by the time the soldier arrived at a clinic. When the child woke his arm had been bandaged and stitched together and he was lying in a large room surrounded by children that resembled him. Dirt stained their clothes as well as their faces. An orphanage, at least the only kind one would find in Noxus.


	2. New Beginnings

**Chapter 1: New Beginnings **

The boy woke to a young dirtied face staring down at him. It was a girl roughly his age with dark brown colored hair tinged red and bright crimson eyes complimented her face. He couldn't tell if her skin was tan or just filthy. Behind her he could make out the low ceiling clearly and the flecks of the sky were visible through holes of varying sizes. He blinked his eyes several times and sat up groggily. A bloodied bandage was wrapped around his upper arm and a dull pain coursed through his bicep. The boy was lying in the dirt floor of the barn; around him, there were many children of different ages milling about the building. He turned his attention back to the girl kneeling next to him. She too wore dirtied clothing and she seemed to have several bruises pocket marking her body. Her face was pleasant and angular. Even at his age the boy could recognize the determination and fire in her eyes. A severe headache made his head throb. "Who are you?" The red haired girl said with a smooth voice, but somehow resonating with command. Each word felt like a knife twisting in his mind. Despite the pain the words brought, he felt compelled to answer.

The boy mulled through his head and found to his terror that he couldn't remember anything. There were nameless faces that flashed across his mind's eye, but no name to match or a feeling to present. In fact, he didn't know who he was, where he was, or even how he was. "I… I don't. I am not sure who I am…" The boy stuttered in shock and confusion. His eyes flicked to each corner of the building looking desperately for familiarity. The mahogany haired girl looked at him in surprise, but seemed to not mind his lack of knowledge.

"The overseers have been calling you Karuk. Is that your name?" The young girl supplied helpfully. The name meant nothing to the boy and apparently the young girl recognized the lack of connection in his face and continued with a slight frown, "Well, I guess I will just call you Karuk. If that is okay with you." She added casting a sideways glance at him. The boy, still confused, just nodded in acceptance not really caring for his name; he cared more to remember his identity. After a brief pause the girl said, "I am Riven." The reddish-brown haired girl appeared to be unperturbed by his silence.

Karuk, as the child had been named by this unfamiliar girl, stared into his hands flexing his fingers and looking at his palms and tracing the lines in his hands with his eyes. Try as he might, but he could not recall his past clearly to know it as anything better than an odd contorted dream. He shrugged his shoulder seemingly putting his amnesia to the side and observed the loose bloody bandage wrapped around his bicep. He twisted his arm up to inspect it more clearly and immediately regretted it. Pain coursed through it, racing to his head and causing him to lower his arm nearly instantaneously. Karuk gave up his inspection with a soft grunt and glanced at Riven who was examining his wrapped bicep as well. She eventually said, "What happened to your arm… Karuk?" She said his name hesitantly as if not wanting to offend him. Karuk looked back at Riven and then let out a long sigh. He wish he knew. He clenched his his fists in frustration. Why couldn't this girl realize how helplessly lost he was?

"I don't know, Riven. I don't remember anything! For all I know, my name isn't Karuk. For all I know I was injured here!" Karuk exploded in anger and a tinge of self loathing along with a healthy dose of suspicion. Riven's eyes flashed briefly with unconcealed anger, but after a slight intake of breath seemed unaffected by his outburst.

Eventually Riven replied, "Well, I can assure you that you weren't injured here. They brought you here bandaged up. In fact, you have been here for all of about an afternoon lying in the middle of the room. Someone came by early in the morning and dropped you off. I overheard him saying you had been through a rough time. I was curious. I'll try not to prod next time." She added the last sentence and held up her hands.

Karuk looked at her and felt a sort of pity emanating off of her. "I don't want your pity. I can't satiate your curiosity either and don't much like it." His words felt silly in his high pitched voice and he couldn't help but wish he was more intimidating than the underfed scrap he was. Riven glared at him, stood up, and walked away. He watched her leave the building and exit through a double door held open by worn old shoes stuck underneath the gap between the door and the ground. He stared around the decrepit building and saw boarded windows, mats, and garbage everywhere. For a brief moment he was angry about not being lied down on a mat himself, but decided that was silly considering the condition of everything in the building. The floor was probably cleaner than anything else. A rank stench permeated the air and eventually the boy couldn't stand it anymore and slowly heaved himself out of his sitting position. When he finally reached the double doors he was greeted by what he could only assume was an overseer. The overseer was a very old woman who rocked slowly on a chair overlooking a large fenced enclosure. Even more children were scattered about and their ages varied as greatly as their appearances were the same. All of them were dirtied and thin, but some were early teenagers and some were much younger than Karuk.

As soon as he stepped into the enclosure many children turned to face him. Slightly startled he noticed how they gazed at him like wolves; like predators viewing prey. The children were clustered in groups like little gangs. Generally the makeup of such groups were youngest with the oldest and then those in between also grouped up. All in all they formed many different packs and they all watched Karuk carefully interested in what type of person he was and where he would side. He ignored them all for the most part. He glanced at each person that tried to make eye contact though. Something inside him demanded strength and he was willing and capable of giving it. He strode to one side of the field and sat in a shaded section. Besides the assortment of children with in the yard it was quite empty. The remnants of a swing set was to one side of the yard, but also appeared to be fiercely guarded by one group of kids. Several of them brandished shiny metallic like objects that he could only assume was some form of weapon. The closest group to him sat around a destroyed seesaw and they eyed him as one viewed a threat to their home.

Many children in the different groups seemed to be in some form of argument with another and it appeared common place for vicious fights to break out. Several children limped and countless more bled from scrapes and gashes.

The children closest to him seemed to be growing more aggressive edging closer and closer to him. For now, they remained silent to him only talking amongst themselves. Suddenly the name calling started. Apparently the girl Riven had informed people of his amnesia because now several insults were cast at him including and not limited to such uncreative nouns as forgetty and assheimer. As they grew rowdier they grew closer and soon they were jostling him about, shoving him this way and that. He tried to see past the many unfamiliar heads that surrounded him, but was unable to see past the see of hostile children. A part of him was glad that Riven wasn't in the mob hating around him.

A heavy punch to his back sprawled him on to the muddy ground. Several kicks hit him before he even collapsed and he struggled to get back up. As he stood up he realized the entire field was a mob of fighting children as if hitting him had ignited an inferno. All around him fighting was breaking out. The sound of fists hitting flesh and kicks connecting with limbs echoed across the yard. He tried to find the old woman on the rocking chair while defending himself, but he couldn't see her over the heads of the fighting children and he doubted she would help anyway.

Someone staggered into him and he spun away artfully and turned to face them. Blood was streaming from their nose, but they staggered towards him fists raised aggressively. Karuk fell into a fighting stance that felt right somehow. Perhaps his muscles remembered what his consciousness could not. His bicep screamed its protest, but he ignored it and gritted his teeth. The boy clumsily lunged forward and Karuk easily sidestepped and lashed out meeting the child's arm, feeling a strangely satisfying sting on his wrist from the impact. The blow pushed the boy to the side and a quick sidestep was enough to send the unbalanced boy to the ground.

Karuk spun around looking from side to side staring at the mass of people fighting. No one seemed to spare him a glance and he weaved gracefully out of the mob sidestepping the occasional fighting pair or stray kick. On the fringe of the fray he found the young girl, Riven, sitting in the shadows of the fence studying the fighting intently; her crimson eyes darted from one fist to one arm watching the individual fights start and end. She paid no attention to Karuk as he sat down near her. From a distance, Karuk observed her. She had a strong face despite her age and her clothes were as ragged as his and the rest of the children. No one within the orphanage appeared better off than another material wise. The only advantage was strength and the stray manipulative tongue.

They sat for several minutes averting their gazes from one another and focusing on the ensuing fray. Several other children seemed to also avoid the conflict lurking on the outskirts. Or, casually sitting on the ground similarly to how Karuk and Riven now sat. Suddenly a loud ringing began, starting at the far side of the courtyard and progressing slowly into the center of the enclosure. The sound grew increasingly loud until many children within the courtyard were gripping their ears and closing their eyes tight.

Karuk looked with mild interest to the center of the mob, where the sound continued to escalate. All at once it stopped, and not just the sound. The entire yard was still. The children were practically frozen in place. The only movement were those on the ground scuffling away licking their wounds. In the wake of the bell silence thundered about the clearing. Karuk watched curiously as the children melted away into the recesses of the enclosing leaving a man riding a horse that was pulling a covered carriage. Karuk tried to determine the source of the ringing outside of the carriage and man, but he couldn't discern it from what he saw.

The man on the horse looked tired and was quite old. As he swung his body from the horse it almost seemed that you could hear his bones creak. A long scraggly beard dipped below his waist. He wore a normal commoner's garb, but his robe was accented with dull purples and yellows that struck Karuk as an odd assortment for the normal brown splash behind them. The old man walked behind the carriage and appeared to have a brief conversation, although it appeared very one-sided more like a briefing. Eventually three boys and a girl emerged from the wagon. They stared around in confusion, but they fit right in with the rest of the children's rags and browns. Karuk's observant gaze turned to Riven briefly, but in that moment her eyes met his.

Apparently noticing his curiosity she said, "They bring new kids in that carriage." Karuk continued to observe the new kids. Two of the children looked surprisingly similar, but one was much older than the other. The other children the boy and girl were standing on either side of the pair and both appeared quite a bit more nervous.

"Is that what happened to me?" Karuk murmured. Riven glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. A slight smirk on her lips.

"If you recall, you are hurt pretty bad. No, they just rolled you out onto the floor." Karuk didn't respond and continued to watch. The odd man who had been riding the horse clawed up onto its back and watched the mob with contempt. Finally, the man snapped the reins on the horse and pulled around the courtyard to a long wall at the far side of the space. To Karuk's astonishment the wall opened with a soft squeal of metal on metal. The carriage began moving through the exit before the gate had fully spread apart and by the time the gates had stopped moving the wagon was out of sight. Karuk stared past the gates and studied the surrounding area. It was a slum like his village, but to his surprise there were far more buildings and people than he had ever thought could possibly live in one place.

"Where? Where am I?" Karuk asked in slight awe his mouth hanging slightly open. He looked at Riven expecting an answer, but noticed her staring intently out the gate. He followed her eyes and noticed a mass of troops marching down the street. Nothing special to him, soldiers were disgusting demons and he had an inner urge to stay away from them.

"Riven." Karuk poked her. She seemed to snap out of a trance and looked at Karuk, a slightly irritated expression. Then she seemed to take a deep breath and put herself together.

With a slight sigh she said, "What Karuk?" Riven never even looked at him. Focused intently on the soldiers with devoutness she followed them with her eyes. Even from here Karuk could barely make out their synchronized stomping that echoed quietly, but powerfully to them.

"Where are we? Where am I?" Karuk said impatiently. Riven stared at him incredulously. Karuk began to feel uncomfortable as Riven's face continued in a contorted twist of features. Suddenly she burst out laughing.

Karuk began to speak, but was cut off when Riven began, "You really have no idea where you are do you? We are in the capital of Noxus! The grandest city in all of Valoran with the strongest empire and army ever seen!" She half giggled and half exclaimed her description of Noxus as Karuk now donned an incredulous face.

"Doesn't seem so great." Karuk mumbled. Riven stared at him briefly in disbelief, but seemed to not feel like arguing her point, so Karuk turned away from her and examined the city. His view was quite small, but to him it looked like a haven. A place for opportunity. The only problem was that he had no idea how to get there or even if he was allowed to. His first glimpses of the city of Noxus was closed with a long drawn out squeal of metal and a loud thump. Once the gate was closed hell seemed to break out amongst the courtyard. The four newcomers were surrounded by the angry mob that had only recently been targeting him before he had slipped out and left them to fight.

From where Karuk was he could only make out the two similarly looking boys. The oldest one was up and fighting and the smaller one seemed to be well behind his mimic. To Karuk's surprise the large boy was putting up quite a fight. His strategy also seemed implausible, yet it too was effective.

The large boy took hit after hit, but for each blow he received he slammed another child away with a vicious and calculating fist. "Do they always do this?" Karuk asked Riven after several minutes of watching the newcomers being hazed.

"Yeah, it is how they tell who is strong and who is weak." Riven said wistfully as if remembering her own first day. Most of the kids had erupted into fighting again and yet to Karuk's surprise no one even bothered confronting him or Riven. Briefly he wondered why Riven wasn't fighting herself like all the others, but then again, he wasn't fighting either. Karuk began to stand and walk towards the building he had originally found himself in when he heard a loud roar go through the mob. The excitement seemed to radiate from the very center of the brawl.

Out of curiosity he headed into the fray. To his surprise he was completely capable of walking through the fight unscathed and was often able to down those in his way with quick blows and well-aimed kicks. As he approached the middle of the fray he found himself on the circumference of a ring of onlookers. To his horror in the center of the circle lying side by side were the two newcomers he had lost sight of.

They were covered in scratches. Their fingers were all broken and bent at odd angles more often than not with the bone poking out of their skin. The girl had a broken arm with blood pooling out of it as she lied in the dirt. Most disgustingly their eyes were disfigured gruesomely. Karuk departed in horror. His stomach urged him to vomit, but there was nothing to spit up.

At the edge of the fray and the courtyard Karuk collapsed in a heap. They were both dead. Both those children had been murdered. They had been killed by his peers with their bare hands. Disgust hurtled through his mind. One thought resonated with him and grew stronger and stronger the more the sounds of the kids around him grew: He must escape.

**/AN: Alright, so, bring out your torches for Riven's hair color. But, do not fear there is a method to my madness no matter how thoughtless I may seem. I would also like to apologize for the pause in uploads, but, school is more important to me and right now it is hurting me lol :( .**

**I hope you enjoyed this relatively boring chapter, but I felt like it was important to explain my new and improved lore in the vacuum of summoners not existing and the like. **


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